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The Nature of Elves
'The Nature of Elves. ' By: Ash-hammer; Thane of the Ash-Beard Clan. Champion of Ashosh, The First, The Fist of Mithras, God of Justice, Revenge, and Satisfaction. And wielder of the Hammer Chainbreaker. in Common In the early days, when the Dwarves were hewn from stone by Ganev and Mithras, the elves were already a race of age. While many elves loved the natural world, and others committed themselves to magical pursuits, there was a race of elves that held all elf kind above the “Lower Races”. These elves, claimed dominion over all of Critan (our planet) and sought to claim a status above all other races. These elves called themselves the Letharda ''(The “Mortal Gods” in Elvish) and worked to slaughter and enslave all races who they perceived to be “inferior”. During the subsequent conflicts the Letharda fell in population, but retained many captured dwarves as slaves. After centuries the Empire was established, and slavery outlawed. Yet still, thanks to Elanthe’s (the elf Goddess) protection, neither Pasharda nor mortal could force the Letharda to relinquish their slaves. Until Ashosh (God of Justice, Revenge, and Satisfaction) was stirred, he struck Élanthe down and empowered the thousands of enslaved dwarves with divine strength. Slave revolts spread through the Letharda’s settlements. These historical events have been captured in song: “The Ash-beards" A Dwarven song of Patriotism: '''The elves so high and mighty, ' Too great to do their chores. Stole into the lands of folk, Ignoring Empire laws. They had their way with women, They slit the throats of men. And within the Dwarven outlands, Stole babies by the ten. They took the captives back home, And put them all in chain. When a dwarf resisted, They punished them with pain. With the laughter of the elves, beneath the cracking of the whip. The dwarves could do nothing, But cringe and bite their lip. Ashosh began to stir, In the heavens high above. And said that the elves below, Would never know his love. The dwarves they heard his whisper, And in the dark of night. One and all they snapped their chains, And each rose up to fight! One dwarf stood-a hammer in hand. And called to all-destroy this land. Through the elves-he led them all. Killing anything-that was tall. He broke each bone-he smashed each face. Elf slavers fled-in disgrace. In the slave pits-the dwarves had won. Until the elf counter begun. Forged by pain and elf cruelty, The dwarves denounced their slavery. Ash-hammer saw the elven dead, And took as prize every head. His heart was big and filled with ire, The elven kingdom he lit afire. Reduced the forest to black ash, And vowed to hunt all slaver trash. The dwarves regrouped-and stormed the keep. Found the Elf King-in bed asleep. His guard had fled-in their fears. The King was dragged-atop the stairs. All tied up-to show his back. He screamed aloud-at each whip crack. Ashosh smiled-to hear the cries. And smote the King-from the skies. [My hand aches from editing. The following remains Ash-Hammer's original writ. -A] Forged by pain and elf cruelty, The dwarves denounced their slavery. Ash-hammer saw the elven dead, And took as prize every head. His heart was big and filled with ire, The elven kingdom he lit afire. Reduced the forest to black ash, And vowed to hunt all slaver trash. With Ashosh and Ash-heart at his side, He’ll search across the world wide. Ash-born, the dwarves’ leader, Looked to Ash-hammer and Ash-heart. And said that all the dwarf ex-slaves, From their clans were ripped apart. The elves denied them knowledge, Of heritage and home. He feared that all the free dwarves, Would aimlessly just roam. Cleric and fighter took a knee, And named Ash-born their Clan Lord. All the dwarves followed suit, “We are Ash-beard” they roared. Forged by pain and elf cruelty, The dwarves denounced their slavery. Ash-hammer saw the elven dead, And took as prize every head. His heart was big and filled with ire, The elven kingdom he lit afire. Reduced the forest to black ash, And vowed to hunt all slaver trash. With Ashosh and Ash-heart at his side, He’ll search across the world wide. And if you find yourself a slave, Then do like the Ash-beards brave! Of course, this also provoked pieces of Letharda propaganda: ''A Night of Fire and Fear. - a Letharda Ballad '' The world was young and the world was green, an emerald cut by the gods, it gleamed. But not all was good, not all was calm. The Dwarves wanted more than had crossed their palm. Fine craftsmen, and miners so, delved their way to the Earth below. Constant conquest, gold and ore, pillage the land, with pick and with bore. Fate’s arrow flew crooked that day. A sacred well struck, holy rain drained away. An ancestor’s fury, a defiled grave. Swords were crossed, and Dwarves became slaves. A night full of fire, a night full of fears A night of spilled blood and Élanthe's tears The sands of time, through the hourglass fell, generations passed, anger as well. The dwarves remained captive for crimes of the past. The elves were too used to their labourers fast. Our lady in Mauve, thought only of care. Spoke words divine, our Élanthe the fair. ‘Give them freedom, and freedom receive, unshackle chains and grant reprieve’. But Ashosh the fist, full of hate, reckoned this moment had come but too late. Shattering shackles and granting great power, Ashosh became - Ashosh the cruel in this hour. A night full of fire, a night full of fears A night of spilled blood and Élanthe's tears Fire soon raged where once nature stood. Axes gleamed in the embers, shields were shook. ‘Brace the gates! Make safe the young and the weak! Ash-Born brings a horde, no peace he will speak!’ The gates they fell and lay broken, askew. Through terrified guards cold steel did hew. History burnt as they did encroach, the palace itself where Aelgar the old King, awaited approach. Ash-Born marched, blood coated his arms, for every warrior killed, 3 defenceless he had harmed. Woman and children, the blind and babes, cries of mercy ignored, no honour remained. A night full of fire, a night full of fears A night of spilled blood and Élanthe's tears Aelgar the Old was dragged before his kin, begs for parlay were treated as sin. Wicked knives and whips did flay his skin, as Ash-Born’s face twisted into a grin. There was no honour on that foul night, no end to the bloodshed, no peace, only blight. Admitting mistake was the path we had chosen, but met with no compassion, the Dwarves’ hearts were frozen. A night full of fire, a night full of fears A night of spilled blood and Élanthe's tears Listen Elven kinfolk - mourn for the dead. I see your red rimmed eyes, on a bowed head. Hearts filled with sorrow, a past of regret. Ready to forgive but never forget. The Letharda were mostly annihilated. Only Lord Silverstar’s community still endured. They had been in Mithrasia since before the Empire’s discovery of the colony. After a Dragon attack, some of Lord Silverstar’s populace sought refuge in the Empire’s settlement of Whitmouth. However, while there, it was discovered that these elves still were in “possession” of some dwarven slaves-those that remained captured after the Mithrasian slave revolt. The slaves were free, but Lord Silverstar and his lieutenant Eurovi (a slaver, and Murderer of Ash-hammer’s Wife and baby) escaped justice entirely. They were rescued by the elven Lich Calwyn, who magically transported them out of Whitmouth. While Lord Silverstar’s location is unknown, it is known that he has mastered enslaving magic, he will undoubtedly continue with the Letharda’s mission: to have dominion over Critan and all the ‘lessor races’.